


Angel of Music

by CharalampidisGruber



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is Christine, Alternate Universe, F/M, Lance is Raoul, Longing, Lotor is The Phantom, Mutual Pining, Operas, Overdramatic Gothic vibes, Romelle is Meg, Theatre, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharalampidisGruber/pseuds/CharalampidisGruber
Summary: Allura was nothing more but a chorus girl but after tonight, she is the new diva at the Opera and her tutor is finally going to show his face.





	Angel of Music

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an edgelord. I like Phantom of the Opera and Lotor's butt so I was like, why not?

Her heart was still racing. Pounding away in her chest so quickly that she thought it would burst forth and take flight into the night. Allura kept tracing her slender fingers over the damp flesh at the base of her neck. She could feel the throb of her pulse beneath her russet brown skin. Her vocal cords still felt that delicious tingle in the wake of her performance. This very morning she'd been nothing more than a chorus girl and by the night's end, she was the new diva supreme. She'd performed the aria flawlessly and she felt as if she were flying through the clouds when the crowd stood and flooded the opera house with their applause. The thunderous cacophony washed over her and filled her with a sense of validation that she had years spent pining for.

 

Up on that stage with the heat of the lights on her soft skin, she had felt weightless. Now she felt the full weight of her costume. She plucked the glass gems from her silver hair. She slipped out of the gaudy, gold and scarlet beaded dress. Allura wrapped herself in her ruffled white silken robe. A delicate hand reached up to let down her cascade of silver curls. The curls tickled the nape of her neck and goosebumps erupted across her flesh. Allura thought she heard the soft tickle of a whisper at her ear. A congratulation in a language she didn't understand. She felt a titillating heat in her chest and she smiled softly. He had been watching and he approved.

 

The door to her cramped dressing room swung open as Romelle snuck inside. The girl looked like a porcelain doll. Her golden hair was like rays of sunlight. She was short and petite with pale creamy skin, the perfect build for a ballet dancer.

 

“Allura! Why on Altea are you hiding in here?” Romelle pressed. “You were perfect tonight. You should be outside with all your new admirers.”

 

Romelle plopped on the stool next to Allura. Her blonde hair seemed to glitter in the candlelight.

 

"You must tell me your secret, Allura!" Romelle said. "I never knew you had such a voice! It's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. Who was your tutor? Oh please, you must tell me."

 

Allura didn't want to sound mad, it was why she'd never spoken of him but she felt as if Romelle were a sister. She couldn't hide this from her. Allura felt so overwhelmed with excitement too. Her hands were still trembling from the rush of it all. She'd been harboring this mad desire to speak of him. She'd wanted to gush about him like a silly little girl.

 

Allura reached for her comb, she tenderly ran it through her silver tresses as she spoke. “Father used to tell me tales of an angel. I've had dreams about him and I could feel him tonight. I felt him on that stage. It was as if he was standing right by my side. And that wasn't the first time he's revealed his presence to me---”

 

Allura's cheeks flushed.

 

“He's been in this room before. In fact---I feel him right now,” Allura confessed. “I don't know where he's hiding but I feel him always. He's a genius hidden in the shadows of the opera house.”

 

Romelle chuckled and shook her head. “Allura, Allura you are simply dreaming. Such fanciful tales aren't true. You sound like a mystic with all this talk and it's not like you at all.”

 

“It is true!” Allura insisted. “He's with me all the time. I don't know who he is. He's so secretive. He's never shown himself to me but we both share this glorious love for music. Oh Romelle, he's like another extension of me. I wish this strange angel would show himself to me. It's all I want tonight. I want to share this triumph with him.”

 

Romelle reached for her hand. Her eyes were wide and her brow furrowed with concern.

 

“Your hands are trembling,” Romelle said. “Are you frightened?”

 

“Oh no,” Allura said. “I'm sorry, you're right I'm being silly.”

 

Clearly, Romelle was the one who was actually frightened. Maybe Allura had said too much. She tried to steer the conversation away from him. She praised Romelle for her performance this evening instead.

 

There was the sound of muffled voices outside of her dressing room. Allura's heart sank. She recognized those voices. The voices of the new opera house owners and the newest patron, an old acquaintance of hers. Romelle giggled. She leaned closer to Allura and whispered: "I believe it is time to take my leave, you have a suitor."

 

Allura did not want to deal with this tonight. Romelle opened the door with a bright smile and sure enough, there stood her visitor. The new patron, Lance. Romelle made a polite curtsy before she scuttled away. Lance held a massive bouquet of red roses in his arms. It was a bit too much for a first reunion. She smiled graciously as she took them from him.

 

Lance cracked a silver grin. He was a handsome young man. His tan, olive brown skin and perfectly styled brown hair suited the elf-like features of his face. His was tall and slender, quite a catch for any young bachelorette.

 

“Dear Allura, where is your scarf?” Lance teased.

 

Was he really referencing that old encounter? That day they'd met as children on the beach.

 

“You didn't lose it after all these years did you?” Lance pressed. “I hope not after all the trouble I took. I was just a lad and soaked to the skin.”

 

“It was nice of you to run into the sea to fetch my scarf all those years ago,” Allura said. “But alas I haven't seen it in quite some time.”

 

“It's fine,” Lance said. “I'm just glad to finally be reunited with you.”

 

They embraced. She was genuinely pleased to see him again but it felt a tad off. She had seen him earlier during rehearsals. She had still been in the back of the stage dancing with the chorus girls and he hadn't seemed to take notice of her. But now that he had seen her center stage, belting out her soul, he had devoted his attention to her.

 

“Little Lurie, do you remember sitting in front of your father's fireplace?” Lance asked.

 

It felt odd to hear that childhood pet name roll off his tongue. Her father had called her that and she had not heard it uttered since his death.

 

“Oh yes,” Allura said. “We read stories of goblins and riddles as we gobbled down chocolates and Father played his violin---things have changed so much since then.”

 

"Come, Allura, let me take you to supper!" Lance pleaded. "I'll take you out for the finest night of your life! You deserve to celebrate and we can reminisce about old times---"

 

“Lance, I can't---”

 

“No! I insist!” Lance pressed. “Quickly, I will fetch my coat and we'll be off. I'll be back swiftly.”

 

Allura tried to stop him before he hurried out. She didn't want to go out with him tonight. She wanted to creep into the hidden corners of the opera house and whisper to the darkness. She wanted to speak with her angel. Allura let out a defeated sigh.

 

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. She'd felt so alive before Lance had arrived. Now she felt exhausted and torn. Allura couldn't possibly explain her reasons to him. Lance wouldn't take her seriously. She looked down at her palms. Her eyes following over the delicate lines on her flesh. She felt a rush of icy wind blast her back and it snuffed out the candles.

 

It tossed her curls and she let out a gasp of shock. A deep voice rang out from the darkness. It sounded as if it was all around her. She could not place exactly where it was coming from and it sent a chill down her spine.

 

“Insolent boy!” The voice bellowed.

 

It was her angel.

 

“He basks in your glory as if it is his!” The angel hissed. “He thinks he can steal you away and show you off like some trophy! Tell him to begone! This is your night!”

 

Allura's chest tightened with a twinge of fear.

 

“Angel! Please, I've been weak! I did not mean to offend---”

 

“Oh no, Allura,” The angel whispered.

 

She felt a tingle at the tips of her ears. His tone had shifted so subtly. His voice was like crushed velvet.

 

“Allura, I did not mean for you to think I had taken offense with you,” The angel cooed. “I am furious with this young suitor. He speaks to you but does not listen. It angers me.”

 

Allura rose from her vanity. The only light in the room was dim and it seemed to be radiating from the floor length mirror. It was like gazing upon the warm light of a cabin in the far off distance, engulfed in fog and cold.

 

“What is it you want tonight, Allura?” the angel asked. “This is your night.”

 

Her heart was racing. She felt her breath catching in her throat.

 

"Oh, my guide, my guardian and my friend," Allura said. "I want you to hide no longer! I want you to come to me! I want to see you!"

 

“Then come to me.”

 

The mirror illuminated in an instant. On the other side, stood her angel. Allura let out a cry of shock. She clasped her hands over her mouth to muffle her scream. He appeared just as she had dreamt. He was so tall, towering like the gargoyles atop the opera house's roof. He was clad in a flowing black cloak with a silken red lining. His hair was like moonlight. Smooth and flowing down his shoulders like a frozen waterfall. His skin was an unearthly hue of lavender. It looked so soft. She was already so tempted to reach for it and run her fingertips over it. But an ornately carved ivory mask covered half of his face. All she could see was those blazing golden eyes that seemed to hypnotize her.

 

But her shriek had drawn the attention of an unwanted visitor. Lance was pounding on the door of her dressing room and calling out her name. Allura felt terrified but she could not tear her gaze away from the mirror. Her angel extended his hand with a smirk. The glass of the mirror seemed to have vanished. What magic was this? She reached for his hand. The texture of his leather glove made felt like electricity in her hand.

 

“Come to me,” The angel said. “Quickly.”

 

Allura grasped his hand firmly. In one fluid motion, he swept her into the mirror. She felt his cape envelop her as he drew her into the darkness. She could smell damp stone around her and feel a chill washing over her but her angel was so warm. It was something more than the gentle comfort of a fireplace. It was a heat that penetrated her right down to the core.

 

He guided Allura down the narrow steps. How he could navigate in the darkness she could not fathom but he did it with ease. She was entranced. She felt free and the words flew from her plump lips without hesitation.

 

"It's always been you," Allura said. "Singing to me while I slept, whispering my name while I wept in the shadows. You've always been inside my mind guiding me through all the ugliness to that final sweet glory on the stage tonight---"

 

“No, no, Allura,” the angel said. “You brought yourself there. We danced in the shadows together and sang songs in the darkness but it felt like you brought me along with you tonight.”

 

She thought she was going to cry. She felt the hot tears building up in her eyes but she fought them back.

 

“One day we will sing a duet, angel,” Allura assured. “I swear to you. It will be strange and beautiful and everyone will know you as I do---”

 

“Lotor,” he said. “I am no angel. I am Lotor.”

 

“Lotor,” Allura whispered.

 

His name roved through her mind, sneaking into those old memories and painting them in a new light. He was no angel. He was a man with a name like any other. But he was no ordinary man. They had finally reached the bottom of the staircase. She took in a breath as she looked upon the glorious sight. There were catacombs under the opera house. Allura had thought them just to be a rumor but they were real.

 

An inky black canal was spread out before them. Thousands of candles were all around, lighting the way through the caverns. Wax was dripping down the jagged rocks. The surface of the water looked like the night sky with the reflection of the candles twinkling along its rippling surface. Lotor helped her get aboard his ghostly gondola. Delicate blankets of lacelike cobwebs were draped over its curved hull. The seat creaked as she sat upon it. As he guided the vessel through the canal, the sounds of the sloshing water echoed off the wall. It sounded like an orchestra warming up before a performance.

 

Allura was mesmerized by him. As fantastic as her surroundings were he seemed so much more captivating.

 

"You're just as I fantasized," Allura murmured. "You are the embodiment of mystery and music in the form of a man."

 

Lotor chuckled.

 

“Fantasized?” Lotor teased. “I am flattered, my Angel of Music.”

 

Allura found herself feeling quite hot despite the frigid air around her.

 

“You know they fear you,” Allura said. “I always thought you an angel but the dancers and singers and caretakers---they all thought you a ghost. A frightful beast that lurked in the shadows to torment anyone who crossed him.”

 

“A phantom,” Lotor mused. “I supposed I am.”

 

They came upon a massive chamber. It was like a glittering golden carving. Old props from past performances had been repurposed as furniture. Candles were lined against every inch of the walls. Red velvet curtains that had long been discarded had become the wallpaper for these caverns. A dusty, splintering organ stood at the back of the chamber. Its brass pipes creeping up to the ceiling. Mannequins in old costumes stood to watch over his domain. Their thick fabric riddled with holes from hungry moths and the colors faded from age. Lotor brought the boat to his makeshift dock and helped her ashore.

 

Allura looked upon it all. Her mouth agape. Lotor snickered as she took in the sight of his home.

 

“Welcome to music's throne,” Lotor cooed. “Would you like to join me in my kingdom?”

 

“Oh yes,” Allura said breathlessly.

 

She could live with him forever. Down here in the comfort of the candlelight in his arms. They would only venture upward to perform their strange duet on stage. Their spirits and their songs intertwining and spreading their art to the world.

 

She felt his hand pull back her silver curls. The way it made her skin tingle was so inviting. She was frightened but eager. She wanted Lotor to touch her. She wanted to feel him in all the ways that she had dreamt about. Allura felt the damp heat of his breath on her neck and she let out a sigh. She couldn't bear to hide it any longer.

 

“Would you like to pay homage to music tonight, my angel?” Lotor cooed.

 

Allura just nodded her head. She felt as if she was melting into his arms. She felt a singing in her veins. She wanted to make music together. Learn the music that their parts could make and cry out in the night with ecstasy. She wanted to feel his flesh upon hers and know in the most base of ways just how much of a man he was. Lotor tilted her head to face him. She looking into those amber eyes and became lost in them.

 

“Yes,” Allura said. “I want to make music with you for the rest of my days.”

 

A grin crept across his perfectly sculpted face. She felt the tip of his nose brush against hers as their lips met and she succumbed to his kiss as sweet as nectar.

 

 


End file.
